


History Repeats

by TransverseLadybird



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, It's all Jaime and Brienne folks, Jaime and Daenerys are in a political marriage so there's no romance between them, Mutual Pining, Post War, Post-Season/Series 08, so much pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-10-11 10:14:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17444957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransverseLadybird/pseuds/TransverseLadybird
Summary: What happens when Daenerys takes Jaime as her King after the Great War, and Brienne accepts a position in her Queensguard?A repeat of a history that they both know only too well, as they are once again forced to be too close but too far from the person they love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Before History Repeats](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16588253) by [TeamGwenee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamGwenee/pseuds/TeamGwenee). 



> This is a divergence fic from TeamGwenee's, "Before History Repeats", so that sets up the situation and how Jaime came to be Daenerys' consort. It's great! You should definitely read that first :)
> 
> **I like Daenerys but in this fic she's an obstacle to Jaime and Brienne's happiness (which is obviously unacceptable) so there may be some anti-Daenerys elements, but I definitely don't intend to demonise her***

**_Jaime_ **

“I will be guarding the Queen,” Brienne said awkwardly, her jaw tight.

“I’m well aware of the duties of the Queensguard,” he said drily, for so the Queen had named it. After all, it was she who had ascended to the throne. He was a consort. He hoped the sarcasm in his voice masked his true feelings.

Brienne raised her chin. _Her response to anything she perceives as a threat,_ Jaime thought, _even the threat of being mocked_. He immediately regretted his tone and opened his mouth to apologise but she beat him to it, and her words only twisted the knife in his gut. “I simply referred to your obvious distaste at having me in your Queensguard. You do not have to worry to see me more than you wish, for Queen Daenerys wishes me to be her personal guard. It provides her a good public image to be guarded by a woman, I imagine.” _Of course Brienne assumed nefarious motives_.

“She wants you guarding her, my dear Lady Brienne, because you are by far the best fighter in the motley crew she calls the Queensguard,” growled Jaime. Oh how he hated Daenerys in that moment for continuing the travesty of a Kingsguard after everything it had come to represent. They even still wore white cloaks.

Brienne was gaping at his words. She was used to him teasing her, but this transparency was not like him. Jaime could see her sifting his words for meaning.

“I apologise, Your Highness, she said, with one of her awkward, manly bows. “It simply seemed as though you were unhappy with my appointment.” He could clearly see how much the thought pained her.

“Brienne,” he said, trying to pull her back from formality. “We are still friends, I promise. I just…” he couldn’t immediately put into words his real reasons for hating the positions they’d found themselves in. “I just didn’t want to see you throw yourself away for another monarch who couldn’t possibly appreciate you.”

She looked down, her mouth tight with embarrassment. She had not relaxed this entire conversation. “Thank you, Ser Jaime. I mean Your Highness,” she hurried to correct herself.

“Jaime is fine,” he cut in, “will I never get you to simply call me by name? How many times have we saved each others’ lives?”

“I believe I’ve lost count, Ser,” she said, but with a twist to her mouth that told him she was teasing him. How far they had come over the years. So close but so far. Perhaps he should have let her continue to call him Your Highness. It might have hurt less.

 

**_Brienne_ **

Brienne had not been appointed long before she discovered part of her duties. Brienne was no innocent. She knew what a marriage entailed, but an arranged marriage… she hadn’t let herself think of it. A week after the wedding, only 6 days after Brienne had been appointed to the Queensguard, the Queen sent her to fetch Jaime. There was no doubt in her mind what the summons was for, nor would there be in Jaime’s.

“Your Highness,” she began. She could not call him Jaime in this moment. “Queen Daenerys requests your immediate attendance in her chambers.”

“Requests,” said Jaime neutrally. He sighed and crossed to the table by the window where he poured himself a goblet of win, drinking it in one go. “I never wondered what it was like for her,” he muttered. He reached for his golden hand and offered it to Brienne, who still stood passively, trying not to feel.

“Can you help me with this, Lady of the Queensguard?”

Brienne knew as well as anyone that Jaime had become adept at fitting the monstrosity himself. Still, she remained mute while she smoothed the leather cover over his shaking arm, then placed the metal over it, fixing his disguise. When she looked up, his eyes were on her as he handed her the glove that had been made to cover the cold metal. She couldn’t look away this time, as she pulled the glove over the metal. She was glad to see it disappear. Her hands still rested on his forearm and he hadn’t pulled it back.

He seemed to be trying to say something but hesitated, and time started back up.

“There,” he finally said with a forced smile. “Do I look whole?”

 _No_ , thought Brienne, _there’s something missing._

But she nodded properly, and lead the way from his rooms. She then remained one step behind the whole way to Daenerys’s chambers, where she turned her back to the door rather than watch him enter.

She heard nothing from the chambers; not the murmur of voices or… she stopped listening for sounds.

When he finally emerged, he didn’t look at Brienne. She could have been part of the stonework, and felt in that moment as if she were.

She watched his back until he turned a corner and tried to process her grief. Reminding herself that he had survived the Great War, that he was alive and safe and whole did nothing to help.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Brienne_ **

“I am sending you with the King to treat with the Stormlands.,” announced the Queen as soon as Brienne had presented herself. Brienne could see the Queen’s reasoning, but it was flawed.

“I do not believe I am as well liked by my homeland as the Queen assumes,” Brienne argued as politely as she could manage.

“That may be so, but you are a hero of the Great War, you are a highly respected member of the Queensguard and you fought for the Stormlands first. What they personally think of you does not matter as much as the extent to which your actions will force them to show you respect. Also,” the Queen added, “you are not a stranger, and I am not sure you realise what that counts for in these times.”

“And you do not wish to treat with them yourself?” Asked Brienne carefully.

“I am the rightful Queen,” said Daenerys sadly, “but Jaime is the hero. Don’t think I am unaware of that. That is why I had to marry him,” she muttered. Brienne was sure she was not meant to hear that, so she pretended not to. Nor did she attempt to argue further. She wondered if this would prove Jaime’s assertion that they were still friends, or firmly establish their new relationship of King and guard.

 

**_Jaime_ **

Brienne’s eyes stood out as the only speck of colour against her pale skin and hair and the white and silver armour she now wore as she stood in the courtyard with his horse, awaiting him. How he missed her dressed in the black armour he had gifted her; how he loathed to be reminded that she was the Queen’s now. As he was.

“Brienne!” Cried another voice, before he could call her name. She turned to a young woman, a girl in truth. “Brienne, where have you been?”

“Ah, the others didn’t tell you?” Asked Brienne, her sombre face softening. “I am leaving court for a time on the Queen’s business. Ser Podrick has promised to keep up your training.”

The girl pulled a face and Brienne laughed. Jaime realised with a wrench that he had never seen her laugh like that, so free.

The girl noticed Jaime and gasped. “Your Highness,” she cried, curtseying so properly that Jaime knew she must be the daughter of a Lord, despite her rough dress. She turned and fled.

Brienne turned to him; the humour had fled faster than the girl. She sketched her stiffest bow, and passed over the readied horse she had been holding for him. Jaime hoped it was just his imagination that told him she deliberately sought not to touch hands. It was as though the previous evening had never happened.


	3. Chapter 3

_The Previous Evening_

“Please summon the King,” asked Daenerys, “and Brienne, can you make sure he drinks the tea prepared by Maester Samwell?”

Brienne faltered in her steps. He was ill? He had seemed perfectly fine, although over the last few days, she had only seen him from a distance.

She knew she needed to cloak herself in obedience, as she always did on the nights of these summonses. It was hard now she was worried. Jaime also made it difficult by holding out his golden hand every time she walked through the door. The ritual of putting his costume on was the only time they touched, and the only time Brienne felt they were still friends.

Brienne would allow herself no more, but neither could she deny herself that painful pleasure, so she always took the hand and put it in place, holding her hands on his forearm for a moment. It was such a pointless pain.

Once she was done, he sighed.

“The Queen wanted to be sure you had drunk Maester Samwell’s tea,” Brienne said hesitantly. “You are not ailing are you, Ser?”

Jaime smiled bitterly. “Such worry, Lady. One would think you cared for me.”

Brienne frowned deeply. Such bitter barbs cut her deeply. “Ser Jaime. You know I care for you.”

“And yet, it is still always ‘Ser Jaime’, and ‘Your Highness’. ‘The Queen needs you’, ‘your horse is prepared’.” He sighed. “Truth, Lady Brienne, I do miss you bullying me when I need it. I get too melancholy without it.” His breath didn’t smell of wine but he sounded drunk.

“It is proper,” she snapped, angry at his ignorance. “I know you forget that you are the King, but I cannot. Do not. You are the King, and I am the Queen’s guard. There is only one kind of relationship we can have. You insist we are friends, but what friendship can there be when I am at your command?” Her voice cracked at the last word. “Now, _Your Highness_. The Queen, your _wife_ , has commanded me to ensure you have drunk the tea before you go to her. Please do so, because the King can ill afford sickness.”

Jaime smiled and she realised suddenly that she had done exactly as he had asked. She stiffened, mortified that he had managed to break her composure so.

He picked up a goblet and sniffed it, pulling a face. “I am not sick, though I appreciate the concern. This tea is designed to boost a man’s fertility. The Queen discovered there is nothing wrong with her own fertility, now she is solely focused on an heir.” Brienne’s stomach had dropped to the floor while he talked. _Of course._

He looked Brienne dead in the eye as he tipped it out onto the floor, then upended a carafe of wine to disguise the spill. “Jaime!” she cried.

“How clumsy of me,” he remarked softly, picking up what looked like his own shirt and using is to mop up the whole mess. She dropped to her knees to help in some way, but he held up his golden hand to stop her. “Can’t get that white cloak dirty.” It was so bitter, so dead, Brienne rocked back on her feet.

“Nothing,” he said, wiping up the last of the wine, “nothing to be done. But I can’t. I don’t want to bring children into this. Again. And again. And again. I always wanted kids. I thought I’d get a chance one day to actually be a father, but…”

“You _do_ have a chance.”

“Those children wouldn’t be mine. They’d be hers. They’re always hers. I was going to ask you to marry me, Brienne.” He slipped the last comment in so subtly that Brienne almost missed it. It took her a few moments to realise what he said. “I didn’t expect you to say yes,” he was saying, seemingly in response to her silence. “But I guess part of me must have hoped, else I wouldn’t feel this loss.” His words were moving from quiet to angry. He seemed angry with himself more than anything.

Brienne hadn’t responded because her mind had simply stopped at his confession. She remembered his stings. _“Is that a woman?” “Where did you find this beast?” “You’re much uglier in daylight.”_ Yes, they had become friends, but for him to want to marry her even though he thought so little of her appearance. Then she realised with a sinking heart that he hadn’t said he _wanted_ to, only that he was going to ask.

“Why?” She asked quietly.

“Why didn’t I?” He asked. “Because I’m a fool? Because I thought there’d be time.”

Brienne realised they were still kneeling, staring at each other and she got to her feet, but she wouldn’t retract her question. “Why were you going to…?”

“Ask?” He stared up at her, his mouth turning up incredulously. It slowly turned into a proper smile. “Lady Brienne,” he said, shaking his head, “you are the most infuriating woman I have ever encountered.” The way he said it, with that smile on his face, she couldn’t misunderstand.

She clenched her jaw, trying to fight back the waves of joy and grief that were crashing into each other. His eyes were too sincere. She remembered his look in Riverrun, when he’d urged her to keep the sword, when he called her Lady Brienne. His expressions when he was sincere were unbearable. They were what made her love him, and she could absolutely not give herself permission to love him. Not then, when they were enemies, and not now when they were on the same side but as far away as ever.

“The Queen is waiting,” she finally said.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been holding onto this one because I wanted to add a Jaime section to this chapter, but I couldn't get it right. Maybe next chapter :)
> 
> Thank you for all the kind comments. I promise I'll get around to replying to them. They warm my heart!!!

**_Brienne_ **

A full night’s sleep and a full day’s ride did nothing to restore Brienne’s equilibrium. She had never felt quite the tumultuous range of emotions that filled her. If it had only been Jaime’s confession… Yes, that would have been quite enough.

Brienne had still been reeling as she made her back to her room in the Queensguard’s quarters. Ser Jorah had relieved her at the Queen’s door, as he often took the night shift. Waiting in her room was quite possibly the last person she would have expected.

“My Lord Tyrion!” She cried, “What-?”

He gave a quick bow. “Lady Brienne, please take a seat.” Brienne was so used to orders, and this one came from the Queen’s Hand himself, so she sat herself quickly by the window.

Tyrion took the other chair.

“This is a… delicate matter,” he started, meeting Brienne’s eyes seemingly reluctantly. “May I speak person to person?”

“My Lord…” She began stiffly.

“Tyrion,” he corrected. “Tyrion Lannister, brother to Jaime Lannister.”

“What do you want?”

“What is the nature of your relationship with my brother?” That he would ask her that. So soon after Jaime’s confession. She couldn’t stop the stricken look that must have passed across her face. “Don’t worry,” said Tyrion quickly. As if to reassure her he added, “I do not believe anyone else knows.”

“There’s nothing to know,” she said quickly. Too quickly. Tyrion nodded as if she’d confirmed something.

“I like you, Brienne. If not only for yourself, but because you kept Podrick alive. More than that, you taught him to fight so he could keep himself alive. That means more to me than you can know. And I love my brother. It pains me to see him in the same situation all over again. I genuinely thought he had a chance at happiness.” He seemed genuinely remorseful, but Brienne was still confused.

“My Lord…”

“Tyrion,” he said, almost sharply. “I do not come here as a Queen’s Hand. I do not come here to meet with the Queen’s Guard. I came to give you this.” He slid a package across the table. “My brother is idealistic and I fear you are the same. I worry that you haven’t seriously considered the consequences of what you’re doing.”

“What we’re doing…” repeated Brienne, taking the package.

“These herbs will stop you conceiving.” The silence that followed was deafening.

“Tyrion, I don’t know what you think, but I am not… I do not need… I am a virgin. And I will remain so as a sworn member of the Queensguard.” She found her voice haltingly.

“I’m truly sorry if I’ve questioned your virtue, my Lady,” he said formally but without conviction, “but please take my gift. Just in case.”

He left without another word.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Jaime_ **

He still hadn’t said the words, and he was starting to wonder if he should. The way she had looked at him when he’d confessed his plans to marry her, she had reeled away from him. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps it was time he accepted their roles, but immediately on thinking that, he was filled with anger. So not an option. But also the only option. His thoughts wheeled like that for most of the first day’s ride as she rode at his left-hand side.

Brienne was similarly quiet, and he couldn’t begin to imagine her thoughts. She looked as if she kept whole worlds behind her gritted teeth and flinty eyes. Her silence was tearing at Jaime’s nerves. He was starting to get short with everyone around him. Brienne was in charge of his guards, but he had had to bring noble attendants as King. It was nothing like riding as a Commander, and he hated it.

When they set up camp, he disappeared into his tent. He knew he would have to emerge, show his face, smile and laugh, but for now he could not face it. He was expected to change into something more regal, anyway, but he sent away his man. He couldn’t bear the company.

“Your Highness,” her voice as she entered his tent was as stiff as her composure had been on the ride. It sent ice down his spine. He was now sure he didn’t want to hear the thoughts she’d kept hidden. “The camp is secure and watches set, is there anything you need from me?” Her voice when she was doing her job was so bold, so confident.

“No,” he said shortly.

“Very well.” Then she seemed to waver, and in a lower voice than he’d ever heard her speak in, she asked quickly, “did you talk to your brother about me?”

It was the softest he’d ever heard her tone, and it almost didn’t sound like her. His stomach clenched with fear. His brother was simply too smart for Jaime’s good.

“About you?” He hadn’t. He knew Tyrion’s sharp gaze and he’d wanted to give his brother no reason to suspect his loyalties wavered. “No.” She doubted him, he could see it clearly. He wanted to ask. He didn’t want to ask. “Did he…?”

“He seemed to think there was something that he should be… concerned about.” Ah, that was her. Her moment of softness was gone; she was so stiff she could snap in an instant.

 _Damn him._ Jaime had already pushed her away with his confessions and Tyrion had seemingly made it far worse.

She pulled a package from her tunic and placed it gently on the table. “Apparently there are herbs that prevent a woman from conceiving.”

His heart plummeted to his toes. Would she ever forgive him for this?

She stared him down while he gathered his thoughts to try to explain. What? That his brother had too rightly guessed at his true feelings? And maybe even hoped for his sake that they were returned?

He finally gathered together enough threads to try voicing them.

“I didn’t tell him anything. But he knows me. He – I guess- he must have known what I want.” Only then did he look up at her.

“What you want…”

“I want you, Brienne. I… I…” It was so hard to say this, knowing there was nothing he could do about it. “I love you,” he finally said simply, and it felt like a surrender to her hard gaze.

“So this is not about…?” She could not even articulate it, but the stern glare to the present that lay between them made it clear.

“No,” he said quickly. She looked… _disappointed?_ “Of course, I do want you that way. More than you could imagine. But even if… I will never get to… It’s not an option…” He was arguing with himself, not her. “I still love you.”

“How?” And he could see it reflected in her face. His ridicule when they’d first met. His jabs at her honour. Everything he hated about himself, reflected in her insecurities.

“Because…” He started, but words were insufficient. She only stood two strides from him and that was too far.

He made it in one, then he was holding her, and he realised he never really had before. They’d been tied together, and she’d caught him once, but this was something else. He didn’t kiss her, though he desperately wanted to. Instead he held her with all his strength, and after a moment of stiffness, she was holding him back. He tried to put everything he couldn’t say into his embrace.

When he pulled back and saw the wonder mixed with tears on her face, he decided he’d succeeded.

Then he found himself being pulled closer and she was kissing him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, this chapter just kept getting too long, so this is the first half. I will try to post the last chapter soon :D

**Jaime**

“I have never been to Tarth,” admitted Jaime as he watched the dock move closer.

“I have not been back for some time,” replied Brienne. Her eyes were far bluer as they reflected the sapphire waters of her home.

“Surrounded by sapphires,” muttered Jaime, not expecting her to hear him, but she turned to look at him, and almost smiled. Though she’d guarded his back the whole way, the kiss may have been a dream for all reference they’d made of it. Jaime had no wish to push Brienne, and she seemed to regret it. Deeply.

The Lords of the Stormlands, in apparent respect to their returning hero, had offered that council be held on Tarth. It was a show of affection, a tool designed to soften his party’s attitude, decided Jaime’s cynical mind. But it meant he had an excuse to visit Brienne’s home, something he’d longed for. He wanted to see how this woman had been made.

The boat docked, and the King was escorted onto land, where it seemed to rock under his feet. He was not used to travel by ship.

As he’d suspected, it was Lord Selwyn Tarth himself who greeted them under lavishly erected shelters on the main dock. He was starting to age, the Evenstar. He carried a stick as he approached, but Jaime was not fooled. The man was known to be shrewd.

He approached Jaime appropriately, bowing to the King. Then he broke form.

“Your Highness, it has been many years since I have been able to greet my daughter. May I beg your indulgence to greet my only child properly?”

“Of course,” said Jaime. Though he knew a ploy when he saw one, he would be lying if he said he was unaffected by the sight of the man hugging Brienne. She, too, looked affected, but he couldn’t quite read her expression.

Then they were escorted to the keep. The man kept looking over at Brienne as he talked to Jaime and he could tell that it wasn’t entirely a ploy. He really had missed his daughter.

He watched their interplay and felt heaviness about his own feelings. He was proud of his daughter. A blind man could see that. And he felt as if his forbidden regard somehow dirtied her. Unlike him, she _was_ what she appeared to be. A war hero, honoured with the white cloak for unwavering loyalty and bravery. And he would make of her a mistress? No.

 

**Brienne**

She strode the battlements of the Evenstar’s castle as she had as a child. The place held so many painful memories, but it was truly beautiful and it was the view of her childhood. When her overindulgent father had allowed her true freedom. Freedom she hadn’t had since.

She escorted Jaime, and dozens of followers, for Tarth had not hosted a King for many years. Even though he was inspecting the battlements, and talking to the soldiers, she also felt like she was showing him her home. Brienne held deep within her a desperate desire to show him her true home. The bays she had explored in her first sailing boat. The particular cave she had used as a hideout when Septa Roelle had forced her to needlework. The rivers that lead to the ocean where she had swum even deep in the winter, for they were the clearest waters to be found anywhere in Westeros. It was the childish desire of a besotted girl, but she couldn’t banish it.

He looked at her equal as much as he looked at the view, and she had to fight to keep her face still.

It continued through dinner. It continued through the entertainments her father had organised for the King’s arrival. She had steadily been making up her mind, and when they finally retired, it became concrete.

She only had to gather her nerve.

Jaime looked stunned to see her. She had not announced herself or knocked as was proper. She could not risk anyone seeing her.

She bolted the door behind her. There was small chance of anyone disturbing the King, but just in case.

When she turned back to him, he was still staring.

“Those herbs your brother gave me leave a bitter taste in the mouth,” she said almost lightly. “Hopefully that means they are effective.”

“Tyrion knows these things,” he said blankly, and Brienne feared she had made a terrible mistake but then he stepped towards her woodenly and she realised it was just the shock. “What are you…?” Even he wasn’t going to finish asking as stupid question as that. “Are you sure?” He asked instead.

“I am,” she said, closing the gap between them.

She had initiated their first kiss and it looked like she would have to initiate their second. He was still staring, as if he’d never seen her. This kiss was nothing like the first, that had been simply a pressing of their lips together before voices outside the tent had them springing apart.

Now she leaned into it. She had no idea how to kiss, had never had the opportunity to practice, but the feel of his lips moving against her made that irrelevant. She just knew she wanted more.

He pulled her so close they might merge, but still wasn’t close enough.


End file.
